


liz and phil

by sickgirl_mp3



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: F/M, an interview
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 07:12:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11270595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sickgirl_mp3/pseuds/sickgirl_mp3
Summary: (not the actual new york times dont sue me bitch)





	liz and phil

AMERICA’S QUEEN ELIZABETH AND PRINCE PHILLIP DON’T MAKE THE TIMES: THE FIRST AND LAST INTERVIEW OF MR. AND MRS. ULLMAN

an uncut interview by J. Abrahmsen

photographs by M. Cromwell

 

 

“Giselle,” I hear 25 year old CEO Jordan Ullman call out to his wife Beyoncé, who was formerly known as Beyoncé Knowles before she took his last name two years ago. She excuses herself from the group of people she’s happily chatting with and breezes over to her husband, who’s been a wallflower for the majority of the time I’ve been at this party. Every now and then someone would come and strike up a conversation with him, and he’d happily speak; he’d laugh with them, loud and friendly, but when it died down, his eyes were looking down a glass of champagne, observing the partygoers, or glued to his wife.

 

Jordan wraps an arm around her waist, kissing her on the cheek. Beyoncé says something to him that I’m too distant to hear with a smile that’s so genuine and soft that it has to be reserved for only him and he nods, replying with a few words and an equally beautiful smile. He grins and makes a comment that makes her let out an audible, gorgeous laugh and a “Jordan!” that’s so bubbly and light that I feel invasive and rude for having it grace my own ears and not just Jordan’s. She wraps her arms around his neck and they share an adoring look. Jordan tilts his head up a little to kiss Beyoncé since her heels give her a slight height advantage on him. He says something in her ear and she giggles. He takes her hand and they walk in my direction; I make eye contact with Jordan and he smirks, nodding politely. Beyoncé’s shoes make quick clicking sounds on the floor.

 

Jordan pulls her a little closer as they walk. “Been watching you all night, mama,” he confesses quietly. The only reason I hear him say it is because he and Beyoncé are about a foot away, quickly approaching me.

 

“You’re so bad,” Beyoncé airily admits as she passes me with her husband, giggling and setting her half-empty, lipstick-stained champagne flute on a table before the couple makes their way out of the room.

 

The last things I hear before they’re out of earshot are a gruff, yet light “can’t help it,” and a surprised squeal followed by a cute laugh.

 

Not a single word in my vocabulary is a word I can use to describe Jordan and his 23 year old wife. Anyone on the outside of their little world- which is basically everyone who isn’t in their tax bracket and isn’t the Ullmans’ close friend and business partner Majid Al Maskati- will know everything and nothing about them. They’re practically a household name; you can’t go a second without hearing about their very public escapades in business as well as pleasure. To the general public, they live life in the fast lane, at a new high-profile club or restaurant every time someone blinks. Their friends and allies are people of status and wealth. When asked how Mariah Carey was while on the street sometime last year, Jordan stated that she was “great,” and that they’d spoken just the day before. Beyoncé gets followed by mobs on the streets of New York despite being nothing but a wife and a _very_ affluent woman.

 

A year or so after the party, it’s a hot day in Cancun. My friend and photographer Max Cromwell and I are wandering around the high-class hotel the Times put us up in for our assignment, and staying in the air conditioned, explorable building is the best option for us. In our time wandering around the hotel, we shared an elevator with a mayor, passed by two reality tv stars, and met a dog from a commercial.

 

The real high point of our day occurs when we bump into none other than Jordan Ullman himself. He points at me and tells me that he remembers seeing me at a party of his a while back. I ask him how he could remember someone so insignificant after so long; he tells me that he never forgets a face and asks if we mind hanging out in his suite with him and his wife. It’s rude to decline such kind offers, so we agree to spend time with him. He’s staying in the penthouse suite. He sits on one of the couches in the main room, and Max and I sit in chairs across from each other. I ask him if we can interrogate him a bit. He laughs. His laugh is unlike the one I heard many times at the party; it’s quiet, sort of meek.

 

JU: Just don’t ask me for my social security number.

 

NYT: Don’t worry, I’m fine with being middle class, Mr. Ullman- and I wouldn’t want to throw The Times into an identity theft scandal.

 

JU: [Jordan laughs.] Call me Jordan.

 

NYT: Will do. So what brings you to Cancun- if that’s not too invasive of a question.

 

JU: We needed a break. We’re only staying here because my wife likes the view of the city. If it were up to me, we’d be in a suite on another floor, but this is nice, and I like seeing Bey happy.

 

NYT: How is your wife?

 

JU: She was sleeping before I left and saw you guys- by the way, man, what’s your name? I’m sorry for not asking earlier.

 

MC: Max Cromwell. I’m a photographer for The Times.

 

JU: [Jordan shakes Max’s hand.] It’s nice to meet you. But like I was saying, she might be awake, I don’t know. She’s kind of tired, we were out all night last night. [Jordan laughs.] Cancun has a great nightclub scene, by the way.

 

NYT: I’ll be sure to check it out. I wanted to get a little serious. I’ve noticed that you’ve never really done any interviews in all the time that you’ve been in the public eye. Why is that?

 

JU: I just don’t like them. They’re never genuine to me. They wanna know shit about me, yeah, everyone does, but does anyone wanna get to know me for me? When's the last time someone asked how I’m doing, you know?

 

NYT: How _are_ you doing?

 

JU: [Jordan grins pridefully.] I’m a little hungover, but overall? Just dandy.

 

NYT: I know you're gonna roll your eyes at this, but why didn't you sue over the nightclub scandal you were involved in last year?

 

JU: Beyoncé asked me not to. [Jordan turns toward the sound of soft footsteps, which belong to Beyoncé. They share a smile.] Speak of the devil and she shall appear.

 

BU: Don't push it, baby, I just woke up. [Beyoncé shakes our hands and introduces herself.]

 

NYT: Trust us, we know who you are, Mrs. Ullman. Jordan was just talking about you.

 

BU: Mrs. Ullman is my mother-in-law. [Beyoncé grins.] But it sounds nice, so you can keep calling me that.

 

JU: The one person that can change my mind about anything is her. When we first got together, I was really surprised at how much we bumped heads. I’d never met someone like that before- she doesn't have a problem telling me about myself. [Jordan chuckles and kisses Beyoncé, who sits on his lap.]

 

NYT: How did you two meet?

 

JU: [Jordan and Beyoncé murmur about who should tell the story.] Fuck you, I’m telling it. We met at an office party my dad threw for Christmas. One of her friends, Harper, invited her and her boyfriend. It's funny, because before I saw her, I was thinking about ditching while the night was young so I could get some more work done. I swear to fucking God, fate works in the weirdest fucking ways, ‘cause I saw her from across the room and my plans instantly changed.

 

BU: You're so dramatic, Jordan.

 

JU: Don't make me say something in front of these kind gentlemen that you know is true but you’d rather not admit.

 

BU: Try me.

 

JU: You aren't dramatic when you ask me to- what is it you always ask me? To “pound you into the-” [Beyoncé groans, annoyed, and covers his mouth.]

 

Jordan asks me not to print the rest of that conversation.

 

“You all got enough of our sex life from the pictures,” he says.

 

Jordan and Beyoncé insist that we stay and eat lunch with them.

 

NYT: So when did you guys get together?

 

JU: [Jordan gets sheepish.] A few weeks after we met.

 

BU: You could say we jumped right into things.

 

NYT: And jumping headfirst into a relationship so quickly didn't affect you guys in any way?

 

JU: In my opinion, it makes things for us more interesting.

 

BU: [Beyoncé nods.] You get to learn more and more about each other every day. It's not as boring.

 

NYT: Jordan, what’d you see in Mrs. Ullman that really made you set your sights on her?

 

JU: [Jordan scoffs.] Everything.

 

BU: Jordan. Please.

 

JU: Nobody will ever feel the way I felt about Beyoncé as soon as I saw her at that party. She was wearing the nicest dress- she told me that night that her mother Tina made it and Christ, she looked so good in it.

 

BU: [Beyoncé laughs.] I looked like a snack.

 

JU: Didn't I know it. Her boyfriend made the biggest mistake of his life by turning his back for a second, right, and her and I started talking. At first, she wasn't really feeling me, at least I don't think so.

 

BU: I wasn't. Firstly, I had a whole boyfriend, next, this man I don't know from Adam is coming up and trying to run game, talking to me about how he runs the whole office and asking me if the weather where I come from is as hot as me. [Beyoncé snorts.]

 

JU: Damn, that was a good one. And it is, by the way, like, as soon as I stepped foot in Houston I wanted to take my ass back to Markham. But, like I was saying before; I like to think I did a pretty decent job getting her attention despite being the worst pickup artist in the world.

 

BU: You weren't that bad. You were just so much that I didn't know how to react in the moment.

 

JU: Thank you. So, I’m like, “Damn, I gotta think of a way to see this woman again!” and I’m thinking and thinking and thinking-

 

BU: You thought about it so hard that you had to go to the bathroom for 30 minutes to do it.

 

JU: [Jordan shushes her.] Hey, listen, it worked, because what did I ask you when I came back? Which, by the way, it’s sweet that you waited for me.

 

BU: I waited to see what other geeky bullshit you were gonna say to me. You asked me if I had a job.

 

JU: I sure did, and when you said you did, what did I ask you next?

 

BU: How much it paid.

 

JU: Let me tell you guys, for how hard she works, her job was grossly underpaying her. You know what I did? [Jordan taps his head.] I saved that information for later and asked her to dance.

 

BU: He looked like he was having a seizure.

 

JU: You loved it.

 

BU: Debatable.

 

JU: Oh, fuck you. [Jordan smiles.] Anyway, I took her up to my office.

 

BU: I’m sorry, I have to cut in, here: It was a fucking pigsty. His desk was, at least. He told me that the lack of organization didn't slow him down at all. I was terrified.

 

JU: Okay, okay. Childish! [Jordan and Beyoncé laugh.] We, uh, talk- and it's _not_ what you think, surprisingly- and I tell her that she'd make a great assistant.

 

BU: He _needed_ a great assistant. Badly.

 

JU: We get it! I gave her my card, told her to meet me for an interview at this little restaurant _way_ on the other side of town. I was so stupid for doing that. But luckily, it didn't throw a wrench in the process. I picked her up a week later, drove her to that restaurant, and by the end of that date, I knew she'd make a great addition to the workplace, so I told her to quit her job.

 

BU: I told him I’d think about it. Oh, if y’all could've seen the look on his face.

 

NYT: Why was it significant?

 

BU: Nobody tells that boy no.

 

NYT: You didn't say no.

 

BU: But I didn't say yes, either. Everything is definite for him, especially him getting his way. The fact that I wasn't a sure thing sent him reeling. He didn't know what to do with himself. That put me off at first, but now I find it sweet that he was so pressed to be sure he could keep seeing me again.

 

JU: A week after our interview passes and I’m sitting here thinking that she just gave up on the idea of seeing me again, but in the middle of the day, my friend Maj walks this woman right into my office. She looked so cute, she had her hair up in a little ponytail and she didn't call me by my first name- that was kinda hot and it was _so_ hard to keep it professional-

 

BU: I was nervous.

 

JU: Really? I couldn't tell. She did some paperwork, and then she marched herself right back into my office and started talking like _she_ was signing my paychecks. “How do you function in a space like this?” and “Your lunch break is too damn long,” and “Your tie is ugly.”

 

BU: You wear the _ugliest_ ties.

 

JU: That's one thing she can't make me stop doing. I kinda forgot what you asked me in the first place. I’m sorry, I ramble.

 

NYT: It's fine, we love listening. I asked what made you know for sure that you wanted Mrs. Ullman in your life as a fixture.

 

JU: Oh, it was the night we first slept together. After everything was said and done, I had a cig while we were laying together; she snatched it out of my mouth and put it out. She said, “Jordan, I’d rather watch stress or my boyfriend kill you, not this thing.”

 

BU: [Beyoncé mumbles.] Took him two years to quit.

 

NYT: What was the significance in that?

 

JU: It made me realize that she was the furthest thing from docile that I’d ever met. She was already trying to make me a better person, even before we slept together- and I don’t believe in coincidence- so when she did that, I took it as a sign.

 

Room service brings us lunch that takes up a cart and a half and most likely racks up quite a bill. Beyoncé asks Max about his photography while we all eat. She’s smarter about that kind of stuff than she likes to let on, Jordan tells us.

 

“People think I’m stupid for whatever reason,” Beyoncé says, looking hard at the food on her plate and shoving it around. “I’m just reserved.”

 

Jordan fails to contain the discomfort and anger in his voice. “They talk about her so badly for no fucking reason.”

 

(He would later go on to tell me in greater length and detail about just how upset Beyoncé’s mistreatment made him.)

 

Beyoncé asks Jordan to fetch her the old Polaroid she claims to always bring with her on trips like the one they’re on right now; she and Jordan have a bit of a yelling match from across the suite when Jordan can’t find it.

 

“Watch me find it right where I told him it was,” she says with faux annoyance.

 

She does find it where she told him it was, and they playfully fuss at each other. Their argument dissipates into shared giggles and kisses. Surprisingly, it isn’t uncomfortable to watch, Max and I find it endearing- even when they do get a little carried away and Jordan gets handsy. Beyoncé tells Jordan to behave and he lets her go reluctantly.

 

“Can I take a picture of you guys?” Beyoncé asks us.

 

We oblige. How can we turn down such an offer? We’re all smiles and thumbs up, and when we start hamming it up for the camera, she laughs, loud and silly. She makes Jordan take a few pictures with us; he’s camera shy at first, but soon enough, shy smiles evolve into the famous face-splitting grin he’s known for. Beyoncé dedicates herself to the impromptu photoshoot so much that she goes as far as to stand on a chair and get a great shot of us from above.

 

When Jordan steals the Polaroid away and starts snapping away at her, it’s her turn to be shy.

 

“Jordan, I’m not even decent,” she tells him quietly as he keeps taking pictures.

 

We watch as the light from the flash bounces off of the satin robe she has on. Jordan tells her she looks like a model and she just laughs humbly. She sits down and playfully ignores Jordan and the camera.

 

Mr. and Mrs. Ullman are about as picture perfect as it gets by worldly definitions; when they make tabloids and nightly news reports, they’re tearing the rug from underneath everyone’s feet and making heads turn with whatever they decide to do under the diligent watch of the public. Beyoncé is a modern day Jackie Kennedy, all poise, grace, style, and adoration for her untouchable husband. Jordan brings observers a sense of ease and confidence with his million-megawatt smile and his carefree take on life in every area but business. His wife is always following right behind him and vice versa. They’re one entity, strung together by whatever force in life decided to smile down on them and push them into each other’s paths, yet they’re superstars in their own individual right.

 

Max takes a few pictures of them; one of Beyoncé sitting on Jordan’s lap, looking very dignified and high profile despite Jordan looking as if he’d just woken up and Beyoncé looking like a lingerie model in contrast. Another shot is of Beyoncé feeding Jordan some of her pancakes. There’s six shots of them at various stages of affection. The last shot Max takes is one of Jordan watching adoringly as Beyoncé, unaware of the eyes on her, fixes her hair in the reflection she catches of herself in a window.

 

NYT: We’re really grateful that you allowed us to give this impromptu interview, Jordan.

 

JU: I’m kinda glad too. It feels good to get some things off my chest.

 

NYT: I was hoping I could ask you a few more things, forgive me if they make me sound a little silly.

 

JU: [Jordan laughs.] No problem, we don’t have a thing to do today.

 

NYT: Are you a shower singer?

 

JU: [Jordan looks at Beyoncé and they share a knowing look.] I mean-

 

BU: YES. Oh my goodness, this man _screeches_ his heart out in the shower.

 

JU: I’m like that fuckin’ Timberlake kid. Babe, what’s his name? He was at that fundraiser dinner we threw about a month ago.

 

BU: Justin?

 

JU: Justin! I’m like him. I hit _all_ the fuckin falsettos when I’m taking a shower. It’s kind of embarrassing if you ask me.

 

NYT: Mrs. Ullman?

 

BU: [Beyoncé grins.] I guess you could say I’m Aretha when it comes time to get clean.

 

JU: One time we showered together and she hit the craziest little fuckin’ riff ‘cause-

 

BU: Jordan.

 

NYT: You can sing, Mrs. Ullman?

 

BU: I-

 

JU: Like a fuckin’ bird, I should know-

 

BU: Jordan Kenneth, I’m not gonna tell you again-

 

JU: [Jordan laughs.] Yes ma’am.

 

NYT: Kenneth?

 

BU: [Beyoncé nods.] Mine’s Giselle.

 

NYT: That’s beautiful, Mrs. Ullman.

 

BU: Thank you.

 

JU: Do you wanna know something else about Giselle? She’s different from Beyoncé.

 

NYT: Like two separate entities?

 

JU: Oh, yes, definitely.

 

NYT: What’s Giselle like?

 

BU: He’s bullshitting. He wants to be funny.

 

JU: The fuck I am. Giselle comes out when Beyoncé is mad, [Beyoncé asked us to omit the rest of his explanation.]

 

BU: Jordan, we’re gonna have a serious talk after these men are gone.

 

NYT: I’ll refrain from commenting on that. I would, however, like to switch gears a little and ask you some more about your relationship with the media. How do you react to negative comments made about you in newspapers, on television, et cetera?

 

JU: I stopped reading shit about myself when I was fuckin’... twenty-one. Am I getting fuckin’ paid to read about myself? No. But I am getting paid every time one of those assholes- no offense to you- writes about me. The exposure is crazy if you think about it.

 

NYT: Mrs. Ullman, what about you? I know you tend to be a hot topic.

 

BU: I don’t pay attention to much of that stuff. I don’t take criticism hard, but people are cruel. I don’t know why that is- maybe it’s ‘cause it’s easy to talk about people you don’t know personally, I don’t know. But I don’t look at it, people are terrible. In fact, it’s a little worse for me, I think, because I’m a black woman. People are so harsh on us for whatever reason, and it only gets harder when you’re in a position like mine. People don’t like seeing black women being happy. That’s just how it is. When Jordan and I first started dating, the attention was alright, I guess; I read how people just asked tame little questions about our escapades and stuff, but things got worse when people saw me out with a ring on my finger. Oh, people lost their minds- a black girl being found worthy of love by someone so successful and handsome? A black girl being _happy_? Out of the question. Completely out of the question. Suddenly EVERYONE wanted to see what the catch was, if Jordan was using me for sex, if I was using him for money, if it was some stunt for attention from the media.

 

JU: The last one didn’t even make fucking sense, because I was and still am in the headlines every other week, it seems. But we got married _fast_ , and it made everyone so upset, and I didn’t know why; everyone seemed to like it with every other couple who did it- but after a while I knew why. It sucks that I can’t fully know just exactly what Beyoncé feels and goes through. I can only try to understand and help out to the best of my abilities. I hate not being able to make everything stop for her.

 

As Beyoncé and Jordan spoke, I looked at Jordan; his hand held hers a little tighter. It wasn’t a comforting squeeze of the hand, at least not wholly. I could tell he was angry. With every sentence she spoke, his nostrils would flare slightly or he would grip his fork a bit harder.

 

BU: You know how many people have come up to me at the weirdest places and times to tell me to my face that I’m not good enough for my own husband? That I don’t deserve what I have? That I’m a gold digger? [Beyoncé pauses.] The last one kinda makes me laugh.

 

JU: [Jordan smiles knowingly.] Oh, yeah, that last one. Makes me sick, I’ll tell you.

 

NYT: I must be missing something. An inside joke, perhaps?

 

JU: Not really- the thing that makes us laugh is the fact that, for whatever reason, people think I’m dumb enough to marry a woman who’s gonna use me without signing a prenup first.

 

BU: He had to _force_ me to be somewhat of a “gold digger.” At that point, I’m not even a gold digger.

 

JU: Spoiling your wife isn’t the wildest idea in the world, but you know why people would try and feel that way about Beyoncé and I. It’s stupid.

 

NYT: So when all is said and done, you could care less, basically?

 

JU: Exactly.

 

BU: Spot on. It still hurts me sometimes, I told you why, but Jordan and other people in my circle are a great help to me. So no, I couldn’t really care less.

 

NYT: If there’s one thing you wanted to tell the next person who stopped you on the street, what would it be?

 

JU: Let me walk, I wanna buy a hoagie in peace. I always get stopped when I’m trying to buy a hoagie, weirdly. I hate that shit. Lemme eat, man, come on. But to be real? I think I would tell them to ask me how my day is, or how I think the weather is, you know? Ask me how I am.

 

BU: I’d tell them to go watch the little commercial Jordy’s in. He looks so cute in it, I saw it on Channel 5 the other day.

 

JU: Aw, I fucked that up so badly. I was so nervous.

 

NYT: I’ve seen that. You did great.

 

JU: I’m not paying you nor am I married to you, so you don’t have to lie.

 

NYT: I promise, you did better than you think.

 

At that point I realize that Max and I have a flight home to catch; we all make small talk and trade phone numbers. Beyoncé insists that we come over and enjoy their pool with them anytime during the summer. She claims they could use the company. Jordan expresses yet again how happy he is that we had a chat and we thank him in turn for allowing us to listen.

 

Words cannot describe The Ullmans and how they move throughout life. Their philosophies, even from the little they showed me, are so simple yet somehow futuristic that it makes anyone else jealous. You are either endeared by them or envious of them. They make true happiness look like something simultaneously bought and found, and love look like something they invented in a lab they funded themselves. Being in their presence is akin to falling headfirst into the fountain of youth. They make leaving them hard; they welcome you and make you feel as if their own blood runs through your veins. They give what they get and also give the world what they don’t deserve: lack of inhibition and a hell of a lot of audacity.

 

NYT: Any closing statements? Advice for the road? Anything?

 

JU: Any pleasure that’s cheap isn’t worth it.

 

BU: You as an individual are priceless.

 

JU: Aw, that was better than mine.

 

BU: I’m your better half, that’s why.

 

JU: Thanks, Mrs. Ullman.

 

BU: [Beyoncé laughs as Jordan kisses her.] Anytime.

 

 


End file.
